


saying goodbye to a you who never was

by CyberPhoenix



Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: M/M, akira is also extremely stressed 24/7 please help him, akira is too gay and it will be the literal death of him if he's not careful, didn't proofread this just went feral, persona 5 royal spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberPhoenix/pseuds/CyberPhoenix
Summary: Akira loved that boy with all his heart.That's why everything hurt so much more.(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR AKECHI'S CONFIDANT & THIRD SEMESTER STORYLINE/ENDING)
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

Akira Kurusu never considered himself a lucky man. By all means, that title belonged to Joker, the wild leader of the Phantom Thieves, who managed to win over so many allies and somehow juggle that with schoolwork and proper appearances. There wasn't much Akira considered himself to be, anymore. Everything that tied into the Phantom Thieves, from crafting lockpicks during a lull in class, to chatting up girls on the street just so he could get them to help him out, to shoving yet another bite of burger down just that maybe, maybe he'd have the courage to talk to a man about guns-- wow, it really did sound stupid when he said it out loud-- everything that tied to the Phantom Thieves was all Joker's thing. He'd taken ahold of Akira's life and slid into the void that the young man had left behind.

His phone buzzed anxiously, another request, another invitation, another thing to attend to. It was nice, being wanted like this, being asked for. So much for Akira's bad reputation, Joker had everything covered to the point where even those who'd avoided him at school seemed to steal a glance. What, with a face like this he could get even close to his teammates and bring them to their full potential and-- no, no, shut up. They're more than teammates, they're friends. This wasn't some ludicrous set-up where all he had to focus on was the gains and what people could provide to him, he was living his life, doing his best, and having fun, right? He was fine.

He was stressed to hell. Even on the few nights Morgana barked at him to sleep in early, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt and apprehension that clouded his mind. It seemed to wash over everything recently, zoning out during conversations, idly scrolling through text messages only to respond if addressed, even everyday life felt too slow, too much potential wasted in every second. What was he even worried about? Well, hold on. There were plenty of things for Akira to be worried about, but none for Joker. Joker didn't worry, he had everything handled. He had a schedule to follow, didn't he? Working as efficiently and productively as possible to ensure everything would be nice and easy. This was for Akira's sake, wasn't it? This effort? To give himself peace of mind. Anything along the way was a necessity to overcome.

His phone buzzed again, and Joker clicked on his screen, fingers flying to open up his messages. Work, palace, hang out, work, what would be the best way to spend his time-- Akira's eyes caught the icon next to the third message down, and immediately everything else left his mind. Opening up Akechi's message, he read it over. Another round of billiards when evening rolled around, was it? Oh, that sounded fun... Akira made a mental note to get back to him once the time rolled around. He never passed up a moment to spend with Akechi. As soon as he made up his mind, Joker came back, taking his legs to stand and walk out-- they needed to train more, today. Sae's palace would be a challenge unlike any other, for more reasons than he'd like to admit. Relaxing would come later, for now he had to focus. He had to be strong, for Akira's sake. For Akira, who knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

It was a surprise, winning against Akechi. Joker was active in his mind, already calculating so many things and wanting to take even the briefest of moments and deduce who Akechi was and what he was capable of, and everything in-between. Not that he wasn't aware of things already, but Joker was never the type to check things only once. Akira, on the other hand, relaxed and enjoyed the time together. He cared so much for Akechi, ever since their first meeting and through everything that came after. He'd never felt the same nagging of Joker wanting to take the reins, suspicion somehow achieving the opposite effect on his desire to have everything in its place. The detective had just always seemed to exude such a collected aura, even though everything felt about to shatter. It was nice, Akira would admit, deciding not to worry about everything. Deciding not to care, if even just for a night, about the truths he knew and the lies that he didn't. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, seeing a thrashing sea below, but his hand was clasped tightly in that of the one about to push him off. There was serenity in pretending that everything was calm. Joker couldn't make a rebuttal-- if him and the others were already planning for the worst, what harm would this do? So, Akira got to enjoy his time with Akechi, pretend for another moment that the Phantom Thieves weren't real, before they parted, and once again his mind filled with the steps of everything he had to do next.

It was only a couple days later when the next-- and last-- message was sent, an invitation to meet, despite everything that was soon to come to pass. Akira had arrived, eager and excited, but not letting it show. To be honest, any time spent with Akechi was relaxing, in a paradoxical way. He didn't have to worry about Akechi's actions or intent in the same way Joker tried to micromanage everyone else in his life. Akechi was going to be whoever he was, and Akira welcomed that. So when Akechi led him to Mementos, brandishing that gaudy sword and challenging him to a duel, for only a brief moment did Joker grab ahold of him, already searching for a weakness, for an out, for a way to stop him in his tracks. Lethal force. How funny you of all people would say that, Akechi.

Akira didn't want to be mean, but... Akechi had been outmatched from the beginning. At least, as he was fighting now. Joker had just been too prepared, summoning one of their newer personas, watching as Crow's magic dulled as it engulfed Akira's form, glancing off just enough to not hurt too badly. The lunges that he took also didn't work out too well as the force bounced back at him, a strategy that felt like cheating-- but neither of them had spoken of rules. Akira stood there, idly healing when Crow hit him too hard with something he couldn't block, guarding if he had nothing better to do. Perhaps it was mean to watch Crow tire himself out, bit by bit, as his own intent was reflected back at him twofold. Akira hated to admit it, but he found it hilarious, even as Joker bit back taunting, mocking words that threatened to expose their entire operation. Finally, Akira gave Crow the mercy of not knocking himself down and out, leaping forward to attack. The duel was over, a victor declared despite only one hand being raised in retaliation. As they patched each other up and returned to the surface world, Akira felt Joker smirk, hoping that if push came to shove, it would be that easy for real.

Akira let that thought slip out as he talked with Akechi, an answer he hoped hadn't sounded as disrespectful as it felt. Despite everything he knew, and everything he feared, he wanted so desperately to be closer to Akechi, to know everything, to learn everything-- not in the way that Joker wanted to analyze people, no, but in a different way. Goro Akechi was one of the most fascinating people that Akira had met. Akira also knew full well that the same Goro Akechi that he was so infuriatingly infatuated with, had full plans to kill him. So as the traitorous detective narrowed his eyes and spoke with such genuine thought about hating Joker-- no, hating Akira, because Akira was all that he'd ever been to Akechi-- it was all he could to do not laugh and cry with relief. Oh, to live a life of simplicity, where all was black and white, where choices were irrelevant because everything ended the same anyways. Oh, to live in a world where all of these stresses of doing the right and wrong thing didn't matter, and everything turned out as it should, for better or for worse. Akira simply smiled in return as he nodded and responded. It would be soon enough that Akechi would reveal how deep that hatred welled within him, and Akira knew that it would spell disaster for at least one of them, somehow.

He wondered if getting murdered by the one he loved could be considered a good first date.


	2. Chapter 2

What he wouldn’t give to be selfish.

He gave everything for the sake of others. His reputation, for the sake of that prideful asshole who had too many connections that could ruin him and the woman he’d tried to protect. His dignity, sleeping in a dusty old attic so he wouldn’t intrude on the space that the man he would grow to love as a father and the girl he would learn to love as a sister, shared. His ears, always ready to listen to any of the problems that his friends and the other people he fell into conversation with were troubled by. His hands, always open and moving as he crafted and bought more supplies for their trips to the Metaverse, so everyone would be stocked up and safe.

His life, nearly, as he stared death in the face, beaten and broken and praying to a god he didn’t know yet that he had remembered what he needed to do. The silence of that moment, when there was no fluffy brown-haired young man, all polite and smiles and well-dressed and deadly and… hateful, walking through the door opposite him… it was a relief, but after everything, he didn’t for sure remember why.

His rebellion, as he fought for not only himself but for everyone else. He would’ve given up long ago if he’d only had his own self-preservation in mind—sure, he was a rebel, but when had it ever been for his own sake? He fought to protect, to help, to save. So, as he pointed his gun at the god that shouldn’t be, he did this for their sakes.

His heart, as the wrong month came and passed, a frigid January despite the weather being pleasant as always—the coldness came from how distorted everything felt, and how even his allies seemed somehow… unfulfilled, like this. Following his lead—a lead that in turn was like a leash, loosely grasped by the one who had nearly killed him twice. If it wasn’t for how desperately Goro Akechi had wanted to fight against this false reality, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve had the will to face it on his own. After everything, after so many hells… part of him just wanted to stop worrying. To let go, and relax, and not… think about it anymore. But still Akechi kept going, and so Akira followed, bringing with him the other thieves. Sumire was a happy accident, really. He cared for her too, no matter who she felt she was—but _she_ was not the one he focused on.

He gave up his heart, as February got frighteningly close, and as he grew close to everyone, seeing them grow to their fullest potentials—everyone, except for him, and for Akechi. Not that it was that big of a deal—he wasn’t sure if his status as a wild card and Akechi’s… whatever Akechi was, even allowed for that kind of evolution. It didn’t mean that much. He just… cared about Akechi. Thought about him often, even with how rough and rude and real he was acting. Something about this side of him, it felt so genuine, even against everything else that wasn’t.

So learning the truth, that even that was just another lie, another smear of paint on a canvas meant to be kept pristine for the sake of the potential it held, another lost cause that would have to be lost again for the sake of reality, for the sake of what _he himself_ had been fighting so hard for—Akira would be lying if he said he didn’t expect Akechi to turn against their mission.

Once again, he was surprised.

Akechi burned with such passion, such anger, such genuine emotion—despite knowing all along what would happen to him. What _was meant_ to happen to him in the first place. Akira hesitated, and immediately regretted it, seeing how disappointed the other looked. It wasn’t a disappointment filled with pity, filled with understanding just how desperate Akira was, to have accidentally wished him back to life, no. It was disappointment for Akira not understanding who Akechi was, and everything he’d fought so hard to live by. It hurt, seeing him like that.

But still it hurt, knowing he’d have to say goodbye again.

Akira took a second too long to respond, and Akechi’s subsequent glare back at him hurt like nothing he’d felt before. So, he acquiesced, and once again gave up his own desires for that of what everyone else wanted. The words burnt on his tongue like scalding coffee as he wanted to follow them up with something, anything, to finally be free of the chains that had locked up his heart and feelings—that even if Akechi was going to be long dead and gone, at least, once upon a time, he might’ve known—but even that was too much to ask for.

“What’s life worth in a reality that was cooked up just to satisfy someone else? I say none.”

It broke his heart because he knew Akechi was right, in that twisted, brutally honest way of his. As those words spilled from lips that he wanted nothing more than to tangle with his own, as his eyes narrowed, always so piercing and full of emotion that didn’t always reach the rest of his face, as those rough hands that were stained with blood but soft enough to grasp—what he wouldn’t give to just lace his own fingers with those, holding hands against a world that wanted them both dead, in different ways, Akira felt nothing was fair.

He wanted to be selfish. To say no, to escape into the falsehoods and bury his head in the sand and lose himself to a dream where he would never have to let go. But he’d already woken up his friends, and by the look in Akechi’s eyes, the other was never going to let him fall back into the comforting darkness of a lie. So he nodded, and gave up his heart again, for the sake of those who so desperately asked him to give just a little bit more.

* * *

It was surprisingly cathartic, getting punched in the face by your therapist. Tch, and what a joke that all was—who really needed the therapy, at this point? Both of them? Both of them. Akira punched back, not for Maruki’s sake, but for his own, letting out every bit of anger that this was the end. He hadn’t been allowed peace for a near full year, between everything that had happened—he had to give up a happy ending because he knew full well no one else wanted it. But what if he had? What if he genuinely had?

Akira was selfish, and he knew that. He just longed for one last chance to be. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the worth in everything that they would be regaining, in the struggle and growth that he and his friends had gone through—his friends, his dearest friends who he’d taken such pride and joy in seeing how strong they were, even when he himself… wasn’t.

As it all ended, as the helicatpter landed and everyone slowly stepped out onto solid ground, and as he found himself staring into Crow’s eyes, looking weary and tired in how they glinted behind the mask, as the Metaverse threatened to dissolve around them, he understood.

He understood why Akechi had fought so hard for the truth, even if it would cost him his life. He understood why Maruki had been so desperate to hide away everyone’s suffering as if it’d be better to just have it all not exist. He understood himself, and why his own wishes had made him hurt all the more in the end. Desires were something that all of humanity gave into, in their own individual ways. For some, it was the desire for freedom. For some, the desire for comfort. For some… a desire for love, even when it was impossible to pursue.

He stared into those eyes that knew everything and nothing, saw him and saw no one, and Akira closed his own, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“This is it, then.” He mumbled, limbs too heavy to lift his head with any degree of false confidence.

“You’ll get over me.” Akechi responded softly, and Akira’s throat felt tight.

“You knew?” He struggled to keep himself composed, and it was only the exhaustion that kept him from doing something rash.

“You weren’t exactly subtle, wishing me back here, you know.”

“It was just because we promised—” He tried to justify it, but it felt empty. “Look, I’m… sorry.”

“If you want to be selfish enough to drag me out of hell just so you can see me again, that’s one way of showing your affection. But you know I can’t stay here.”

“I want to be selfish again.” He choked out, as his outfit dissolved into the winter clothes he’d been wearing before all this nonsense. His vision was starting to dim, and it seemed everything else was eerily quiet, as if nothing else existed, for the moment.

“How so?” Akechi’s voice sounded faint, but so clear in his ears. Akira could make out his form, even as everything blurred as if he actually needed the glasses he wore, as he weakly held his hands out to grasp the other’s. The man who was so much and yet nothing at all, who was lies and truth in one, who was real and fake and alive and dead and hateful and loving and radiant all the same, gently took Akira’s hands and moved close. “If this is the end, anyways, what sort of harm can you even do to a man who’s already dead and gone?”

“It’s still _you_ , and you’re still _here_ , right now—” Akira growled, all of the turmoil and emotions bubbling up inside him again almost as if he was about to fight reality itself for one last, stupid wish, even after everything they’d fought for. “—you didn’t want this.”

“I wanted things to go back to how they should’ve been. It doesn’t mean I can’t share your feelings, I just… had other priorities.”

“And you think that’s better, you—you asshole—” He spat the words out, but there was more grief behind them than anything else.

“No, but…” Akechi’s left hand moved to cup Akira’s cheek. His touch was firm, but delicate, consoling but stern. “It means you aren’t being selfish, now. If that helps any.” There was a dull tone to his voice, as if coming to terms with his own mortality against the desperation of love had taken both the falsehood of the detective prince and the truth of the desperate, feral man who fought so hard to _die_ , and left behind only someone who was nothing of the two and both at the same time. “You have a lot to get back to, but like you said, I’m still here, right n-“

Akira kissed him. Desperately, passionately, sorrowfully. He wanted to be selfish, to disregard everything he’d done and everything everyone wanted and just have this moment be his eternity. But he never could be. So, if this wasn’t selfish, this one moment that would be too short and too easily fogged by his memories, then he would take it. To have this one moment of truth even in a sea of lies he’d surrounded himself in and threatened to lose himself to, it was nothing short of exhilarating and painful, Akechi kissing back with nearly the same intensity—opposites but equals, rivals even in the depths of their own feelings. As darkness and light took his mind and sight at the same time, he faintly remembered that they still had a promise left to fulfill.


End file.
